Unexpected
by ComingAndGoingByBubble
Summary: A familiar couple sits down across from Sibella and Lionel on a train.


The world around them passed by as a blur of colors and Sibella couldn't even distinguish the trees from the ground as she sat in her seat next to Lionel. The train compartment was deathly quiet. Every so often someone would flip a paper in their newspaper, or someone would shift their position, causing their clothes to make the slightest amount of noise against the cushions of the seat, but that was all.

Lionel sat still and silent, with one hand holding his newspaper, the other grasped around Sibella's hand tightly. She honestly didn't know why he did this. He always paraded her around like some trophy, and at first in their courtship, she had been quite flattered by the action. It had brought her joy to have him grip her so tightly, to have him want to be near her always. Now, though… now she wished she could be anywhere else.

Her back ached as she sat there, not daring to move in case Lionel made some remark about how her movement had disturbed his reading. She glanced over at him, and realized that he had fallen asleep, his newspaper now on his lap.

She smirked ever so slightly and then steeled her gaze towards the empty seats in front of her, attempting to keep herself occupied. She bit the inside of her cheek. She wondered how she must look to the other passengers in the car, but as Sibella craned her neck to see who was around, she noticed that there was barely anybody in this car.

Lionel slept through the train pulling into one of the stations. New Market, Sibella believed, but she wasn't paying much attention anyway.

The sound of the whistle made her head hurt.

Footsteps rebounded in her ears as she sat there with Lionel, and she found herself glancing out at the window for a moment while the other passengers boarded the compartment.

There was a crowd of people on the other side, amidst the smoke and the steam. People of every age, of all walks of life, young, old, poor, rich…. All together on the platform, waiting for their train.

Her mind wandered to some far off fantasy, one where she was just some person waiting for a train, someone with no husband to go back to, no past to be haunted by, no reputation to uphold.

 _How glorious_ , she thought, _to be an anonymity in the world today_.

"Excuse me?" a voice broke her thoughts.

Her smile turned into a small frown. She knew that voice. A pit opened up in her stomach as she turned her head to confirm who it was.

Monty smiled at her gallantly with Phoebe clutching his arm, giddily.

Sibella felt like the breath had gotten knocked out of her. There he was, her lover, standing there like nothing had happened between them the day previous.

"Are these seats taken?" he asked.

Her head told her to lie, but her heart was shouting to say no.

"No, they're not," she found herself saying suddenly in a quiet voice. She swallowed hard.

Monty then moved in to sit across from her, and Phoebe sat across from Lionel.

Sibella's chest tightened as she wondered what in the world Phoebe and Monty were doing here, on this train? Why this train? Why now? Why the same damned compartment?

She wondered if there was some God up there that was trying to smite her, some being that wished for her to suffer endlessly.

If Monty was nervous as well, he kept a cool demeanor. Sibella did as well, she managed to keep her face calm and collected, but inside she was panicking. Her eyes kept flickering back to him and then to Phoebe, and then suddenly to Lionel to see if he was still asleep.

Surely Monty knew what he was doing when he sat down across from them? He wouldn't dare risk his beloved Phoebe's affections just in order to sit near his mistress, would he?

She bit her lip hard as she glanced at his face. Monty gave her a smug smile in return.

She had half the mind to smack him. So that's what this was. It was all just some game to him. She had always known that Monty had been greedy, a bit too ambitious for a boy of his social standing, and now that he had everything he had ever wanted, he wanted to test those boundaries.

Monty simply wanted his cake and to eat it too, and if that meant sitting across from his mistress while sitting with his wife then so be it.

The gall of it made her stomach turn.

Her dark eyes found their way to Phoebe. The poor thing… if she suspected anything, she did not give it away. She was all bright eyes and smiles. It was only halfway through that Sibella realized that the girl was actually speaking _to her_ , something about how lovely her gown was or something to that effect. Sibella managed a tight smile and a courteous nod.

When she shifted her position in order to turn her gaze towards the window, she found that Monty was staring straight at her. He had that look on his face, the one where his eyes bore into her so intently that she felt as though she had laid her soul bare to him. It made her shudder to have him look at her so. She hated when he did that.

True, through no fault but her own, she did love Monty. The man made her weak in the knees with a simple glance, he truly loved her like no one else had. Yes, it was a lustful love… but there was something underneath it. But… sometimes he scared her. Not in the same way that Lionel scared her, but in a way that made her terrified to the core.

Monty knew her. Monty knew everything about her, even the things she hadn't said out loud to him, and it frightened her.

If he knew everything about her already, then who's to say that he won't tire of her and leave?

Her eyes slanted as she glanced at Phoebe again. The ring on the woman's slim finger was like a dagger to her heart.

 _Countess Phoebe Navarro,_ she thought bitterly _, how lovely that sounds._

She glanced at Lionel, and nearly laughed _. And I am Mrs. Lionel Holland… what a lark…._

Phoebe was a sweet girl, she really was, but she was nothing more than something new to Monty, something completely different than herself. Dark haired, blue eyed, sweet as candy, innocent, virtuous. Sibella bit back a laugh and wondered if she should start referring to the girl as Saint Phoebe.

Sibella chewed on her lip once more, wondering if Monty really loved Phoebe or if he was just using her the way Lionel was using Sibella, as something to use as a trophy, to show your worth.

 _Men might all be the same underneath, even the ones we love and pretend are different_ , she thought angrily as the train started back up again, and soon the outside world became a blur once more.

Monty and Phoebe were conversing together, and Sibella only heard every other word or phrase, the rest was drowned out by her own thoughts.

Lionel startled awake, and Sibella jumped as well. Once recovered, she stole a glance at Monty and could tell that he was a hiding a smirk. It wasn't on his face, but she could see it in his eyes.

They exchanged the usual pleasantries, as one does in high society.

Lionel gripped her hand tighter, and she wanted nothing more than to wrench her hand away but she saw that Phoebe and Monty were watching her. So instead, she put on a fake smile, and nodded occasionally while Lionel spoke of the most boring things, and Monty pretended to be interested.

Phoebe, to her credit, did look actually interested and she wondered how boring of a life the poor woman must have led for her to be interested in what a dull man like her husband was saying.

Monty nudged her heel then, drawing her out of her thoughts. Her eyes glared at him, and she hoped to heaven that neither Lionel nor Phoebe saw that gesture. Monty winked at her and that seemed to ease her fears.

"Mrs. Holland, you seem rather distracted… are you ill?" Monty inquired slowly. She shot him a glare. He knew damn well that this unexpected encounter would have shaken up her nerves to no end.

It was bad enough that Lionel was here, but to have Phoebe here as well was too much. Sibella had no trouble playing the fool with her husband around, but when Phoebe was there, she always felt slightly guilty.

She didn't deserve this… Phoebe didn't deserve to be unknowingly sitting down with her husband's mistress. Or maybe she did know… if so, that made it worse.

Her stomach lurched as the train came to a stop at the next station.

"A little," she lied. She got up suddenly, "I think I'll take some air while we've stopped. I'll be back dear," she told Lionel.

She rushed out of the compartment and breathed heavily as she stepped onto the platform. The smoke billowed around her but she did not mind. All she cared about was being out of that compartment.

Her heart raced as she attempted to normalize her breathing. She didn't even notice that Phoebe had followed her to the platform until the woman was right in front of her. She looked like one of those women in those Renaissance paintings. The ones with the perfect, angelic faces in their gowns of pale purple or blue. Phoebe was wearing a gown in the latter color.

"It's quite crowded in there, isn't it?" Phoebe gave her a gentle smile, "I've never been on a locomotive before, have you Mrs. Holland?"

Sibella shook her head. "No, I can't say I have."

Phoebe suddenly linked her arm through Sibella's, bringing her closer.

"I want us to be friends, Mrs. Holland," she started, "My husband, he speaks so highly of you."

Sibella wasn't quite sure how to respond to such a thing. Should she tell her? She decided, in the end, not to. Maybe it was better that way….

"Monty tends to over-exaggerate. Whatever he has told you, I'm sure is highly false."

Phoebe's smile faltered a bit.

"He's told me he loves you, not in his words though, but he's told me all the same, although he does not know it yet."

The world went quiet then. There was no noise from the train, or the people walking around them, or the children running through the crowds, it was just silence and Phoebe's words.

"I-I" Sibella attempted to say something, say anything, any phrase at all was better than silence or stuttering.

"No, please don't apologize. I know it's not your fault. It takes two for an affair to happen, and I know my husband has always loved you…. He smells like you some nights. When we entered the train compartment, I could instantly smell your perfume and I knew it was the same fragrance that I had noticed on Monty this morning."

"Countess-"

"No, please don't interrupt me. I don't have much time to say this, and I want to get it done and over with before we have to go back into that car."

She straightened herself to full height, and although she was smaller than Sibella, the blonde still found herself somewhat intimidated by her.

"I'm aware of your dealings with my husband. I don't fault him, I can see that you are far prettier than I am, and probably better in… such things than I am. I am not mad at you. I merely come to ask a proposition of you."

She looked at Sibella expectantly, and Sibella felt herself compelled to nod her to go on. They started walking back to the train, the conductor whistling at them to get on before the train departed.

"He loves you, that much is clear. And in turn I love him. I do not want us to be mortal enemies. I've read too many books to know how that sort of situation turns out in the end, and I don't want that to happen, for most certainly one of us will end up with the sourer end of the deal. If I had to make a bet, I would bet everything I had that the one who would end up heartbroken would be me. "

She stopped then. Sibella noticed there were tears in her eyes.

"I know I can't change the fact that he loves you, and that you love him. I don't want to come between you two…. But I am his wife. I feel some sort of duty to uphold that, however I can," her voice quivered and then she recovered, "I'm not asking you to never see him again, but please understand that I am his wife… His lawfully wedded wife and you are Mrs. Holland. Unless something rather unfortunate were to happen to Mr. Holland and we were able to take you in and give you a place to stay, I do not see how this can work without some accommodations on my part."

The conductor was yelling for any last people to get on the train.

"I don't understand what you're asking, Countess-"

"Please, it's Phoebe."

Sibella swallowed, "What exactly do you want from me, Phoebe?" she asked again.

"Discretion… patience… space." Phoebe paused. "As you can imagine, I was not intending on having to share my marriage bed, but if that is how things are going to be, then I need some… time… to process. It's not easy for me," she blushed, "to admit these things, I know such situations are scandalous, but I want to have a happy marriage and you make Monty happy."

"You make him happy too," Sibella felt compelled to reply.

Phoebe laughed, a tinge of bitterness to her sweet voice, "Not in the same way that you do," she said in a low voice, and the poor woman's tears threatened to spill once more.

The conductor yelled once more. Phoebe let go of the other woman in order for her to get on the train. Sibella followed wordlessly.

"Sibella!" Phoebe caught her before she opened the door to their compartment. "One more thing… don't tell him that I know. It'll only hurt him and makes things more difficult. I want to be the one to tell him…. It should come from me."

Sibella nodded quietly. Phoebe suddenly took her hand, and she found that she much rather preferred Phoebe holding her hand than Lionel… or Monty for that matter.

When Sibella looked up from their hands, Phoebe was smiling.

"How can you be so… calm about all this?" she asked slowly.

"I've been treated as someone who has been strange all of my life, why should my marriage be any different?" She laughed.

Sibella found herself speechless at that. She suddenly felt regretful of terribly she had thought of Phoebe in the half an hour beforehand.

"I-I would be honored if we could be friends. I think we should start with that first," Sibella finally said as they entered the compartment.

Phoebe grinned at her, "I think so too."

They walked back to the car where they found Monty and Lionel.

Sibella slid in next to Lionel, and he immediately encircled his hand around her wrist. "You were gone a long time, I think you were holding up the whole damn train," he grumbled.

"Mrs. Holland felt rather ill. As did I," spoke up Phoebe, "Us women do not do well in such tight quarters with no air."

Lionel merely grunted at that.

Sibella looked to Monty then, and he was glaring at Lionel's hand around her wrist as if he could slice it off right then and there with his eyes. When he looked up at her, he had that dangerous look in his eyes.

Maybe Phoebe had prophesized something, maybe something unfortunate would happen to Mr. Holland… something very soon.

Sibella tried not to dwell on such things.

When she glanced back up, Monty was giving Phoebe a chaste kiss on the cheek. The other woman, true to her nature, gave no indication of the conversation they had just had outside on the platform.

Monty then stretched in his seat and smiled widely. "Here I am, on a train back to Highhurst, with my two favorite women in the world, and of course one of the finest gentlemen I have ever known."

Lionel barely acknowledged the compliment. He frowned in annoyance, and gripped Sibella's wrist a bit tighter, so much so that Sibella grimaced a bit.

This time when she looked across from her, she noticed that both Monty and Phoebe were looking at her with concern.

She made the pain fade away from her face with a gentle smile and she tugged her wrist out of Lionel's grasp to look at the window once more.

This time, everything was clear to her. No whirlwind of colors, it was just the reflections of herself, Monty and Phoebe staring back at her.

Sibella couldn't put it into words right then and there, but the image made her smile.


End file.
